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Thursday, December 31, 2015

(The other day I
mentioned that I have a few personal year-end blogging traditions; this is the
last one.) A year ago, I wrote about how I had completed my commitment to sketch every day in 2014. It’s not a resolution,
which typically seems to be based more on external pressures (“Join our gym now
and save 50 percent!”), unrealistic expectations (“Lose 30 pounds in 30 days!”)
or vague ideals (“Be healthier.”). Instead, my daily commitment to sketch is simply
that – a commitment to myself.

A long time ago I heard that it takes 21 days to form a
habit. That is, if you do something daily for three weeks, it’s likely that the
habit will stick indefinitely. Later I read that this was a popular myth;
another study showed that it actually takes 66 days to form a habit. In my experience, though, 21 days, 66 days or even
365 days isn’t long enough unless a commitment is behind it.

After 2014’s 365 days of sketching, I was fairly
confident that the habit would stick; I didn’t have to put it on my to-do list
because it had become automatic, like flossing. In an important way, though, sketching
isn’t at all like flossing, because flossing is completely mindless. (Sometimes
I’ll get into bed and suddenly wonder, “Did I floss?” It’s so literally automatic
that I can’t recall doing it!) Indeed, on some days when I do nothing but
fulfill a series of obligations – earn a living, shop for groceries, take
out the recycling – making a sketch might be the only mindful thing I do all
day.

1/10/15 baby giraffe (from photo)

I have an easy way to track my daily sketches: I almost always
scan them on the day I make them, even if I have no intention of posting them
online. The files are systematically dated by the PC, and I date them in the
file name, which also includes the location of the sketch and other details
that are of interest to me. (Incidentally, scanning regularly has another
benefit: If I were to lose a sketchbook, I’d be very sad, but not nearly as sad
as I would be if I were to lose it before scanning its pages.)

Compulsive? Maybe. But I prefer to think of it as being
mindful about the way I organize possibly the only mindful thing I do all day.
And it means I can easily look in this year’s sketch folder and see that I made
946 sketches (shown on today’s post are some that didn’t appear on the
blog earlier). On many days I was barely able to make one sketch, but on many
other days, I made several per day. If I were simply trying to make 365
sketches in a year, I could have stopped on May 21. But that’s not the point.

10/7/15 Smith Tower (from photo)

What is the point? Sketching every day. Mindfully.

Happy New Year, and here’s to the next 366 (leap year!) days
of sketching!

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

It’s time for the fourth annual roundup of my Top 10
sketching products of the year! In addition to being one of my most-read posts
each year, it’s also one of my favorites to put together because I enjoy
assessing which tools and materials have served my sketching needs best this
year.

Last year, six of
the 10 products on my list were repeats from previous years; in fact, four had
remained in the Top 10 for the three years that I’d been making the list. That
says to me that, despite my penchant for experimenting with new materials (especially
pens!), I stick with what I like as long as it’s still working for me.

That’s why it surprises me to see that several new products
made it onto the list this year, including a couple of dark horses (and therefore several had to drop off). Only three
items were repeats from last year. I hope that means that while I’m loyal to
products that work, I’m also not in a rut of using the same ol’ stuff out of
habit.

I was torn about taking some items off the list because they
still serve me well, if only sporadically (like the truly amazing Pilot Petit1, which has been inked up
continuously for more than a year, gets used only every few months while I’m
fitness walking, yet still writes immediately as soon as I uncap it). But my
selection criteria change from year to year, and this year I put more emphasis
on versatility (especially during
travel when I try to keep my bag as light as possible) and convenience (allowing me to
sketch faster or more easily and therefore more often). I did, however, want to
make room for those surprising dark horses that haven’t been in my bag long. (They
may turn out to be novelties rather than keepers; only time will tell.)

12/11/15 Sailor Naginata fude pen,
Sailor Jentle Doyou ink

Items marked with * are repeats from last year.
To see how the list has changed – or not – over the years, please review2012,2013and2014. The photo reference numbers do not indicate ranking.

2.Sailor Naginata Fude de Mannen. Unsurprisingly, this pen performs as beautifully as I had
always hoped a “grail” pen would, once I got to it on my Epic Search. It’s gratifying to find a pen that works so well and
also feels so comfortable in the hand. Of course, by the time I acquired it, I
had been trained well on fude nib operation by the Naginata’s various fude brothers
– the Profit, Clear Candy and original “calligraphy” pen – so they deserve mention here (indeed, I still keep one or two other
fudes in my bag when I need more ink colors), but only the Big Daddy is on the
Top 10. (You’re wondering if my new Sailor Cross Point, still on its honeymoon with me, tried to wiggle its way onto
this list? Of course it did. But even I wouldn’t put a pen on the list when it’s
still on its honeymoon. Let’s see if it’s here next year.)

3. Pilot fountain pen with Posting nib. This remarkable nib makes one of the finest lines of any
pen I’ve used, and yet it is also smoother than many with a broader point – and
certainly smoother than any with an equivalent nib size. Being both smooth and
extra fine put this pen on my list. It’s now my go-to pen for containing
waterproof Platinum Carbon Black ink (see No. 5 below) because its fine line is
unobtrusive with watercolors.

(“Midsummer Dark Brown”) is a cooler, darker
brown-black that washes to a velvety sable. I’ve been using it almost
exclusively in my Sailor Naginata fude (see No. 2 above).

5. *Platinum
Carbon Black ink. This waterproof ink is the only product that
has been on my Top 10 all four years, and for good reason: It has never let me
down. It dries almost instantly, is completely waterproof and has never clogged
any pen. At various times I triedDeAtramentis Document,Super
5and Sailor Nano Kiwa-Guro
waterproof inks, but none was as consistently reliable as Platinum. This year I’ve
also included Platinum Carbon cartridges in the photo because they’ve proven to
be my best back-up plan (along with a lightweight Platinum Preppy) when I travel.

8. Kuretake (“No. 13”) fountain pen style brush pen. Although I’ve named this particular model
because it’s the one I’ve been carrying lately, I’d be hard-pressed to say why
I prefer it over any other real brush pen I’ve tried (and I’ve tried quite a few). All of the Japanese brush pens are similar
(the synthetics are just as good as the more expensive real-animal-hair
versions), and I use them interchangeably. One major advantage Kuretake has
over some other brands is that it accommodates waterproof Platinum Carbon Black
fountain pen ink cartridges (see No. 5 above), so it can be used with
watercolors. In fact, this brush pen containing PCB has replaced the twig-and-India-ink combo that made it onto
the list last year. While twigmaster Ch’ng Kiah Kieanis inspiring,trying
to wield a twig without his particular brand of magic is a formidable challenge.
Still, I love the rough, organic look of a twig mark. The brush pen gives me more
control than a twig while still imparting sketches with an appealing rustic line.
If the cartridge is running dry, I can even emulate KK’s signature dry-twig
look (without the magic, of course).

11/30/15 Zebra double-ended brush pen
and colored pencils

9. Zebra double-ended brush pen. The second dark horse on this year’s list, the Zebra double
brush pen is a relatively recent discovery that continues to delight with its
versatility. I first discovered it at life drawing, where it encouraged me to loosen up. Then in Japan, I found it to
be ideal for architecture, too – somehow it took away the intimidation I felt
when trying to sketch buildings with a fine nib pen. Its firm, spongy brush tip
(not hairs like the Kuretake above) gives me just enough additional control (compared
to the hairy brush), and having two tip sizes in one pen makes it all the more
versatile.10. *My Stefano
sketchbook system.There’s no doubt thatthis simple leather folder with elastic bands has liberated me from the restrictions
of store-bought sketchbooks. On my Top 10 since I got it, my versatile,
flexible and durable Stefano has been with me on four continents so far. You’ll
notice that this year I’ve included a “bare” signature of paper in the above photo,
too. That’s because this year I discovered even more flexibility about the “system”:
While the leather cover is essential when I’m sketching standing up or using
watercolors and need a stable support, many times I can get by with only a thin,
light signature of paper. When traveling, I’ve used the signature both ways –
with and without the supporting cover. At home, I now do the same thing: When
sketching outdoors (and probably standing), I use the cover; when sketching
indoors and seated, I use the signature alone. Either way, the system meets my
needs exactly.

My "Stefano" doing what it does best: supporting
my sketchbook signature when I sketch
on my feet.

Honorable mention:

Initially I was going to give Field Noteshonorable mentionfor finally putting a paper in its Workshop Companion edition that I found satisfactory for fountain pen sketches washed
lightly. It was as close as I have ever come to finding an ideal pocket-size
sketchbooklet. But being a limited edition, the source is finite and
unreliable, and I don’t even like the covers. I’ll probably keep looking for
the perfect pocket-size book for the rest of my life, but in the meantime, I’ll keep making my own.

Instead, I’m giving honorable mention to the Faber-Castell 9000 pencil sharpener that
I bought at Sekaido in Tokyo. I’ve
been looking far and wide for a portable pencil sharpener that can accommodate
my slightly-larger-circumference Caran d’Ache Museum colored pencils (see No. 6
above), and this is the first one that does it sufficiently (not beautifully,
mind you – just adequately). It gets bonus points for a sleek design that contains
its shavings. It might have made it onto the Top 10 – except it doesn’t sharpen
standard-size pencils well! I’m
holding out for a portable pencil sharpener that accommodates all my pencils. (Yes, I do sharpen with
a knife when I’m home. But I can’t carry a knife when I fly, and I’d rather not on the street, either.)

By the way, since I’d been having so much trouble finding a
sharpener to fit my Caran d’Ache pencils, it was logical to see if Caran d’Ache
made one, right? A little research uncovered one; its price is more than $150. I’ll pass on that. For now, I’m good
with the Faber-Castell 9000 that cost me the U.S. equivalent of a couple bucks
at Sekaido.

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

I have a few year-end retrospective blogging traditions, and
this is one of them: my 10 most memorable sketches of the year. (Here are links
to my most memorable sketches of 2014and 2013.)

Note that I don’t call them my “best” sketches of the year or
the ones I like the most. These are sketches that bring back the strongest
or most meaningful memories. After all, for me, one of the most important
aspects of sketching is being able to preserve moments of my life. What are
your most memorable sketches? (Clicking the title of the sketch will take you
to the original post.)

March 26, Maple Leaf Park, Seattle(left): There I was in late March, sitting under a clear blue sky
and 70 degrees – it felt like summer! I knew it wouldn’t last long, but what a
treat to sketch the park on a day like that after a long winter.

May 16, Eiffel Tower, Paris(right): Unlike some artists who poo-poo the well-known sights and go for
lesser-known views, I don’t have an issue with sketching the world-famous.
Sketching the Eiffel Tower felt like a dream come true.

Aug. 9, Star of India, San Diego(right): After the West Coast Sketchcrawl in San Diego came to an
end, a few other sketchers and I decided to do a bit more sketching on the
waterfront. There’s no doubt that the Star of India was a memorable sketch
subject, but what makes it stand out for me was the record number of people who
planted themselves right in front of me to photograph it, completely blocking
my view.

Sept. 27, Top Pot Donuts, Seattle(left): I spend a lot of time sketching people using laptops in
coffee shops, so this dude at Top Pot on Alki was nothing special. What made the
sketch memorable was that mega-sketcher and artist Don Colley was by my side
during his fantastic urban sketching workshop, showing me how to improve the
sketch.

Oct. 6, roofers, Seattle(right): I don’t get many opportunities for a front-row sketching seat of
roofers at work, so when the house next door got a new roof, I was upstairs
sketching from the bedroom window. I’m easily entertained as long as I have my
sketchbook!

Nov. 16, Himeji Castle, Himeji(below): The weather was warm and gorgeous (perhaps the best we had
during our trip to Japan), it was my birthday, and 800-year-old Himeji-jo was
gleaming in the sunlight. That’s a memorable sketch all-around.

Nov. 21, egrets and herons on the Kamo River, Kyoto(right): After spending more than a week in
tourist-crowded Kyoto, we were weary of battling crowds. Sketching
birds from the nearly deserted bank of the Kamogawa was just the quiet and
solace I needed, and it was one of my favorite days of the whole trip.

Monday, December 28, 2015

One thing Seattle is well known for is plentiful coffee. One
statistic says that we have 35 coffee shops per 100,000 residents, putting the
total at more than 200 in a city of 84 square miles. (Actually, I was surprised
to read that the number was that low – it feels like we have one on every
block.) With that many choices, you’d think I would have no problem finding dozens
of coffee shops I could sketch in on a cold, rainy day (the second thing we are
well known for).

The problem is that I’m picky. For the best sketching, the
ideal coffee shop is relatively large (plenty of “victims”); has good interior
lighting (preferably natural); has tables arranged at various angles so that I
can see profiles as well as fronts and backs; has tables that are sufficiently
close together so that I can see people well but not so close that they can see
what I’m doing; interesting interior decoration or architecture would be a
bonus. And of course, they all have great coffee – but do they have fresh
scones? I’ve walked by many of those 200 coffee shops and rejected them outright
for not qualifying in one way or another. Up until now, only Zoka Coffee fit the bill perfectly.

12/28/15 ink

Cloud City Coffee,
within walking distance of home, is probably my closest coffee shop, but I’ve
sketched it more often from the outside – either standing on the street or from one of its outdoor tables when it’s warm – than I have from the inside.
Although it was the first place I ever dared to sketch in public four years ago, I’ve
only been inside for the purpose of sketching a couple of times. The
tables aren’t arranged ideally as they are at Zoka, which is also much larger. Architecturally, Cloud
City’s interior isn’t as interesting, either. But the last time I sketched at
Zoka, the lighting was different, and the interior was much darker than
before. I decided it was time to look for a new regular haunt.

12/28/15 ink

This morning I gave Cloud City another try. People waiting
in line had to stand right next to me and my sketchbook, and I couldn’t hide in
the corner as I usually try to. But maybe that’s just a habit and not really a preference,
because I found that I didn’t care if I was seen sketching. The interior
lighting is bright, and I also like the natural light coming in from the front
windows. Bonus: I could smell scones baking. Maybe it’s a keeper.

Sunday, December 27, 2015

Running a series of errands yesterday, we stopped first at
the hardware store, where I opted to stay in the car for a sketch. Roosevelt
Way Northeast is lined with gnarly, knotty old trees – all of them split open
on top to make room for wires.

12/27/15 Infinite Painter

I was just thinking about putting in a vague suggestion of
the buildings and other background when Greg finished his shopping. I’m glad I
didn’t have more time – I think the sketch turned out better because I stopped
when I did.

That is one major drawback of digital sketching. With that
blessed undo key and dozens of tools to try, I can fiddle and refiddle with any
sketch way beyond where it should have ended. An overworked watercolor sketch
is usually bad news, but an overworked digital sketch is no better.

Saturday, December 26, 2015

Last night before settling down for the evening, we went out
for a drive in the neighboring areas to see the Christmas lights. The
temperature was in the 30s (as it still is today), so I didn’t have the courage
to get out of the car, but I got Greg to park for a few minutes so I could try
sketching a lighted tree with my tablet. As clumsy as my stylus felt, the
subject matter seemed ideal for digital sketching – a lighted object in the
dark. Last year when we watched the Christmas ships, I had tried it with traditional toned (black) paper and opaque gel pens, but I wasn’t happy
with the results. I’m not exactly thrilled with last night’s attempt either,
but it’s not bad for a first try at sketching a tree in the dark. I also used a
different app this time – Infinite Painter – which I like much better than
Autodesk Sketchbook.

This morning I tried again, this time with a still life.
With my primitive stylus, which feels like sketching with a chunk of ice that
slides all over the tablet surface, I realize it’s much easier to paint rather
than draw (which I’d been attempting previously). Again, I’m not thrilled with
my result – no matter which tool I chose, it felt like using spray paint with a
really huge nozzle – but I’m having more fun now because I’ve accepted my stylus
as a paint brush rather than a fountain pen.

12/26/15 Infinite Painter

It’s like using any medium: You have to use the appropriate tool.
Until I get a better stylus (which doesn’t seem to exist for Android?), I’m OK
with digital painting instead of drawing.

One food-related tradition for Christmas Eve is that Greg
and I pick out some extravagant cheeses, smoked fish, champagne and other
favorites that we don’t generally indulge in the rest of the year. The past few
years we’ve been getting Dulcet “double cream” cheese from Beecher’s, a local cheese maker that started out in Seattle’s Pike
Place Market (there’s now a store in NYC, too). The reason we can’t indulge in this
cheese the rest of the year is not so much because of the cost (although it is
a bit pricey); it’s the fact that it contains so much fat that our arteries can’t
handle it more than once a year! Dulcet is, by far, the best cheese I’ve ever eaten
(well, except maybe in France).

We’re also going to have some really sweet local
pears and juicy satsumas to neutralize the fat in the cheese. (HA!)

So – before we gobble them up tonight, here’s a still life
of some of our holiday goodies. Merry Christmas!

Technical note: I sketched this with Caran d’Ache Supracolor II and Faber-Castell Albrecht Durer water-soluble colored pencils. I decided to use water only
on the cast shadows because I like the texture of the paper showing through on
the fruits. One thing I really like about sketching with colored pencils is
that I can draw the initial contour lines with the same color that I will be
filling in the contour with (rather than a black pencil or pen), so the contour
line fully disappears. Another thing I love
about colored pencils is how easy it is to blend a mix of colors (see photo below
of all the colors I used). What I don’t like is that it takes me so much longer
– this little sketch took a full hour, and I’m sure I could have done it with
watercolors in less than half that time.

This is the unmodified 6mm nib right out of the box.
As you can see, I had to sand off quite a bit of the nib.

Because I’d already been enjoying the unmodified 6mm Parallel, I left the first one unchanged. Out of the
box, the flat-cut 6mm nib is good for making straight, angular marks, which I
like for some things, but it’s difficult to make smoothly rounded lines. That’s
where the modified 6mm nib comes in. I find it much easier to make curved lines
with its rounded edge (see below), and a varying line can be made more gradually. It’s
become a different nib altogether. Still, I’m happy that I left one 6mm nib unmodified,
because it might still have its place.

Now that I’ve been using the hacked 6mm Parallel for
several weeks, I’m thinking that the modified 3.8mm that I took to Japan might
be the more versatile of the two. While I can’t get the broad strokes of the
6mm nib, I can still get smooth, curved lines as well as a finer point with the
3.8mm. But both modified Parallels seem to give my line a more spontaneous
look, which I prefer to a rigid, calculated line. The modified Parallel line
isn’t as fluid as the one either my Sailor fude or my newest Sailor Cross Pointcan make, but those steel Parallel nibs are a whole lot of bang for the
buck (less than 7 bucks, to be exact). (But darn those non-posting caps! I
almost dropped one into the Kamo River in Kyoto!)Want to read a veritable encyclopedia on fountain pens? See Liz Steel’s recently completed series of seven fantastic posts on the subject!

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Cozy and warm, sipping hot tea, I heard an annoying buzzing
sound outside. Through my studio window, I saw the source: Our neighbor’s huge
and very lopsided tree – one I’ve sketched numerous times through that window
(see below two sketches from earlier this year) – was getting hacked by the city utility! I couldn’t miss this
sketch! After all the hacked trees
I’ve sketched, this would be only the second time I’d catch one in the act!Unfortunately, I couldn’t see much of the workers and cherry
picker without going out on our little front deck (where I’ve sketched utility action on previous occasions),
so I reluctantly left my tea behind and pulled on a parka (sigh – no rest for the wicked).In less than 15 minutes, they were done, and so was I, because that was about as long as I could sketch in 42-degree weather.
(It’s gone up a whopping 3 degrees since this morning.) I’m grateful for one thing: The workers trimmed off that one lower branch that stuck way out like a bad cowlick!

Despite dire warnings of more rain due this afternoon (and
the possibility of snow by Christmas), I daresay I saw blue sky early this
morning between the gray clouds! Our thermometer read 39 F, so I cranked up the
heat in the car (including the seat heater) and drove up the hill to the Crown
Hill neighborhood, where I’d spotted this tree last week on my way to Swanson’s. After I turn off the engine,
my tiny car stays comfortable for about 15 minutes – just long enough for this
sketch.

Sunday, December 20, 2015

I’ve been back from Japanfor four weeks now, and I’m finally ready to reveal my one extravagant splurge
(which I alluded to discreetly in my Tokyo shopping post . . . did you catch it?): the Sailor 1911 with a Cross Point
nib!

You may recall that I attended the L.A. International Pen Show last February, where I spent quite a
bit of time at John Mottishaw’s (Nibs.com)
booth trying out Sailor’s specialty nibs. I was 95 percent sure I wanted the Sailor
Naginata fude, which I had been thinking about for a long time. But I wanted to
try all the other Sailor nibs anyway, just in case something else turned my crank.

Line-width variation of the Cross Point compared to the fude. (Stillman & Birn
Epsilon paper)

Indeed, a few other nibs caught my attention, and one in
particular was a strong contender to the fude: Sailor’s Cross Point. While
similar to the fude in operation, which requires tilting at various angles to
the paper to achieve a varying line width, the Cross Point doesn’t have to be
tilted at quite the extreme angles as the fude – but also doesn’t have quite as
wide a line range. Its finest point isn’t as fine as the fude’s, but turned
upside-down, it’s comparable. What attracted me the most, though? The Cross
Point was even smoother than the fude! In fact, John’s sample fude seemed
downright scratchy by comparison. (The fude I ended up purchasing, however,
was as smooth as glass.)

Fast-forward to several months later when we began planning
our fall trip to Japan. I contacted sketcher Mike Daikubara (my original fude inspiration) to find
out where I’d have the best luck shopping for Sailors in Tokyo. (Check out his
recent blog post about his own Sailor shopping adventures! Have a drool at all the pens he got to test!) He
recommended Itoya, an elegant, 12-story stationery and design store in Tokyo’s
Ginza shopping district. Fountain pens are such an important part of Itoya’s
inventory that they were recently moved to a separate building around the
corner. My pulse already raced – and I still had several months to wait before
our trip!

As I waited, the Sailor Cross Point was still on my mind. At
Itoya, I intended to try out several other nibs, but the one I really wanted to
re-test was the Cross Point. Would it still strike me as a special nib? Or had
that been nothing more than a momentary distraction in the fervor of the L.A. Pen
Show?

Sometimes when I think about something I want (or might
want) for too long, once I get my hands on it, I can’t test it objectively – I’ve
already decided I’m going to buy it. Fortunately, in this case, despite the very favorable yen/dollar exchange rate, the Cross Point’s
price made it a serious purchase, so I was still thinking fairly clearly. In
addition, my life got so busy in the ensuing months that I nearly forgot about
the pen (I said nearly, not
completely).

Jewelry does nothing for me. . .but this pen case at Itoya?
Be still my heart!

Testing the Cross Point.

By the time I got to Tokyo’s Ginza shopping district in
November, I was excited about the prospect of seeing all those pens at Itoya,
but I felt I was objective enough to make a sound decision. I tested the Cross
Point at the counter in several ways – writing, scribbles and especially a few
quick sketches – and it quickened my pulse as much as it had in L.A. I think it’s
the combination of smoothness along with line variation – the two attributes in
any fountain pen that get my attention – that makes it special.

The pen body is the 1911 “full size” – exactly the same body
as my Naginata fude, except in a
shiny burgundy red color instead of matte black. A matching leather pen case
came with it, but I don’t baby any of my pens, so I dropped the naked pen into
my bag right next to all the rest of my pens on the trip.

The nib’s face is attractive enough, but it’s not until you
turn it to its profile that you see what makes it distinctive and unique.
Unlike the fude, which is curved on both the top and bottom, the Cross Point is
flat on top but anvil-shaped on the surface that meets the paper.

Top of Cross Point nib

The Cross Point's distinctive profile

Inked with a blue-black Sailor cartridge that also came with
the pen, it got a good workout at Ueno Park the next day and sporadically the rest of the trip. After I got home,
I put it to work at Drawing Jam.
Like the Naginata fude, the Cross Point puts out a heavy stream of ink, so I
especially like using it with water-soluble ink that I intend to wash for
shading. And as I had intended all along, the nib’s variable line is especially
conducive to sketching people, animals and other subject matter with more fluid,
organic lines. That said, it also gave me a strong, inorganic line on the
utility pole I sketched in the Asakusa neighborhood.

A tiny bag from the Itoya store!

During my “honeymoon” with the new Cross Point, I started
wondering if I love this nib even more than the fude. But then I’ll use the
fude, and I realize that each has different, unique attributes. You can’t ask
me to choose which child I love more.